Away with the Fairies
by milkshakebubblebath
Summary: Ever wonder how it all began? How Hook and Pan became lifelong rivals? How Hook lost his hand? How did ferocious pirates grow to love stories so much? Who was Peter before Wendy, Michael and John? It started with a storyteller called Gwen, who went away with the fairies... (Please be kind, it's been 8 years since my last story!)


I always dreamt of fairies. They came to me when I was four years old, and I was playing in the garden. When the nanny wasn't looking, they played with me, dancing about my brown curls, and sprinkling pixie dust on my freckles until I sneezed.

At school, no one ever found out that I could talk to fairies. In all honesty, no one ever asked much about me; they left me to my own devices, and I liked it that way. "She talks to herself," they would mutter. Fortunately, I was not subject to any rumours more vicious than that. After school, I would go to the park, and, slipping away from my nanny, find the fairies. They were always waiting for me, ready to play. I would make sure not to dirty my dress — my mother stopped finding the excuse "It was the fairies!" endearing after the first time.

In time, I became an older sister, to twin boys: Jack and Tom. I adored them. They could never see the fairies, but they liked my stories about them. Every night in the nursery, they would gather around me, and I would act out the adventures of the Fairy King and Queen and their subjects. Many a night we all fell about laughing, before getting a scolding from our nanny, who would frog-march us into our beds and tuck in the sheets so tight we could barely breathe.

And then, as happens to all, I got older. The boys got older, too, and they left the world of pretend behind. They didn't realise that what was make-believe for them was very real for me. They began training to be bankers and lawyers, like our father and grandfathers. I, on the other hand, was ushered into polite society, in the hopes that someone would see me and take a fancy to me.

I continued to walk and talk with the fairies, but less often than before. It's harder to slip your chaperone when playing games is supposed to be beneath you.

Eventually, when I was 19, someone did take a fancy to me: Harry. He was friendly, and not at all bad-looking. He had jokes that were funny, and he was never rude to the staff. My parents thought he was wonderful. I thought myself to be in love… That was before the business with James, of course.

It was three days before my wedding when my world changed. I was excited, and yet, there was a part of me that was wistful for something else. What that something else was, I'm not sure. That evening, after preparing for bed, I sat by the open window and gazed up at the stars. The moon was bright, and the air was fresh. The smell of magic was in the air. Just as I was ready to draw the curtains and climb into bed, I saw a twinkling light. Now two; now three. Several fairies were making their way towards my window.

 _How odd_ , I thought to myself. _They never leave the garden._

I could hear them calling my name. "Gwen! Gwen!" (Only the fairies used my shortened name — and sometimes Harry, in the odd moment we were alone together. Everyone else called me Gwendoline.)

They flew in through the open window, landing gracefully on my dressing table. I sat on my stool to talk to them; they were quivering with excitement.

"What's the matter?" I whispered.

"You must come with us, come with us now, yes, yes, you must, come now, let's go."

"Go where?" I asked softly. "It is late."

"Oh but you must! To Neverland, to Neverland, they need you, come with us, come now, yes, yes."

"Neverland? Where is that? I have never heard of it."

"It is a most wondrous place," they said, still quivering, "and they have great need of you, you must follow, come now, yes, yes, let us go."

"Who? Who needs me?"

"The Lost Boys," they said, "they have no one, they are frightened, come with us, Gwen, they need you, need love and care, come with us, you must, yes."

"The Lost Boys? Who are they?"

"Gwendoline! Who are you talking to?" My mother called through my bedroom door, startling me and sending the fairies into a frenzy. They dove into draws and wardrobes, looking for places to hide.

"No one, mama; just myself, as always."

"Hmmph. Marriage will knock that out of you!"

"Yes, mama. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gwendoline."

After her footsteps in the corridor grew faint, one by one the fairies emerged from their hiding places and returned to the dressing table. "Did you hear that?" I asked. "I can't go. I'm getting married — in three days! I can't leave. You'll have to find someone else."

"Frightened children, crying children, need love, and care, yes, yes, need you, yes. Time is still in Neverland, yes, never grow up, yes, children need a mother, yes."

My eyes widened. "Time… stands still? In Neverland?"

The fairies knew they had me. They nodded vigorously.

"Are the children — the Lost Boys —in danger?"

"Need love, need care — need a mother," came the reply.

I slowly got up and crossed the room to my wardrobe. I opened the doors, and there, staring back at me, was my wedding dress. I stood there for a moment, considering my options. I thought of Harry, sweet Harry. I thought of my brothers, all grown up. Then I shut the doors and turned back to the fairies.

"I will go," I said. "Take me to Neverland."

 **A/N: Oh gosh, it's been, what, 8 years or so since I last wrote fanfiction?! Amazing. Anyway, I had this idea while rewatching Peter Pan (2003). Let me know if you enjoyed it! More to come...**


End file.
